


Dirty Little Secret

by OhNylL



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Human, Awkward Boners, Gen, cross dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 18:18:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhNylL/pseuds/OhNylL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were a lot of things that Lydia put up with, being caught dancing in his Jeep on company time was not one of them. The tune was stuck in his head, however, and he hummed it softly under his breath as he slipped out of the Jeep and made his way to the front doors. Stiles nodded to everyone who smiled and nodded at him, and sighed wistfully at all the drop dead gorgeous men and women who looked like they had all walked out of a GQ magazine. Oh wait. They basically had, since that was where Stiles was.</p>
<p>-- Or the one where Stiles and Derek are both models, but Stiles has a secret and Derek has a crush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Little Secret

Stiles hummed along to the song blasting through his Jeep’s speakers. It was a good day, even though the day hadn’t really started yet –it was still good. He had woken up feeling like it was going to be awesome, and he’d gotten out of bed before Scott and Allison woke up so there had been plenty of hot water for him to have a shower with. And if he let the water run for the time it took him to dry off and get dressed, well those two hardly ever left him enough warm water to wash his hair with. All is fair in love and war. The battle of the water-tank simply fell under both categories.

After his shower he had danced around the kitchen, cooking up a storm of spinach omelettes and a pound of turkey bacon –if anyone cared about healthy alternatives, they stopped complaining once Stiles had started using actual bacon fat to fry the turkey bacon in. Or at least that’s what Stiles told them he did, which just went to show how unrefined his friends palettes were if they couldn’t taste the difference. With breakfast almost finished, Scott and Allison had tumbled out of their bedroom with smiles on their faces, the coffeepot beeped and Stiles served everyone.

“Are you hiding someone in your room?” Allison teased as she sipped on her coffee, watching as Stiles counted out the strips of bacon to make sure everyone got the same amount. Stiles grinned, 

“Maybe, but I told him that I wasn’t going to feed him.”

Scott snorted behind a mouthful of egg, “Dude, the number one sign you don’t have a guy here is that you only set the table for three.” Allison stabbed Scott’s hand with her fork when he reached for one of her slices of bacon, having already inhaled all five of his, and he made a wounded sound before looking back at Stiles, who rolled his eyes, “Seriously dude, we’d love it if you snagged some ass every now and then.” Scott’s face twisted, like it physically pained him to say that. Stiles and Allison laughed,  
“Scott stop before you hurt yourself,” Stiles shook his head, dumping the pan in the sink before making his way over to the island to join them, “I got laid last weekend, remember?”

Scott’s pained face didn’t go away, “Yeah. Unfortunately I do.” Allison leaned over and kissed his cheek, easing him up again, and Stiles smiled at how disgustingly sweet his friends were. If he blamed them for his high expectations in a relationship, well he wasn’t going to tell them. Together since high school and still going strong almost six years later, sure the two of them had a few bumps in the road –namely Allison’s parents, but that’s what made them...well them. They completed each other, and Stiles wanted what they had. Someone to laugh with, who made him laugh so hard he felt like his sides were going to split, who looked at him like he hung the fucking moon, and would let him cuddle inside a fortress of pillows and blankets when they both suffered from the flu. Amazing sex would come later, since Allison and Scott had six years of mapping out each others’ bodies –and okay. Stiles stopped his train of thought there because well, he had to hear it every night and see the dopy, love-struck, expression on both their faces every morning –he didn’t need to torment himself with mental images during the off season. Of course he could do it, if he really wanted to. He had seen both of them naked enough times that he could tell you that Allison’s actual hair colour was a soft auburn, not the chocolate brown she kept it, and that Scott had precisely five moles on his ass that kind of looked like a star, if you squinted and tilted your head to the side just so.

“So are you excited for today?” Allison’s voice broke through before the mental image could turn into a movie and Stiles grinned around the rim of his cup,

“Of course, I’m always excited for work.”

“Hurry up or Lydia will murder you. We’ll meet you for lunch around two.”

Stiles nodded, shoveling the last mouthful of his breakfast in his mouth. He poured his coffee in his thermos and topped it off, shouting a “See ya,” over his shoulder as he grabbed his hoodie and keys and skipped out the door.

He sang a few words of the chorus as he turned into the parking lot and expertly eased his tiny, blue, baby in between Lydia’s green Prius and a sleek, black, Camaro that he didn’t recognize. Taking a deep breath Stiles turned the Jeep off before he started head-banging in the company lot. There were a lot of things that Lydia put up with, being caught dancing in his Jeep on company time was not one of them. The tune was stuck in his head, however, and he hummed it softly under his breath as he slipped out of the Jeep and made his way to the front doors. Stiles nodded to everyone who smiled and nodded at him, and sighed wistfully at all the drop dead gorgeous men and women who looked like they had all walked out of a GQ magazine. Oh wait. They basically had, since that was where Stiles was. 

He stepped in through the doors and sighed softly at the welcomed blast of cool air from the AC. It was just passed nine-thirty and already the temperatures were reaching the mid-thirty mark, at least he was going to be inside where it was cool for most of the day. 

“Batman!”

Stiles blinked and stopped short, in the middle of the hallway, when he heard his nickname. Looking around he barely caught a glimpse of bouncing, golden, curls before he was jumped on and pulled into a tight hug, “God I missed you.”

“Missed you too, Catwoman,” he grinned, spinning Erica around before putting her feet back on the ground, “How was Milan?”

“Fucking spectacular, I’ll brag about it over coffee and next time I go you’ll have to come with me.” She grinned to match his,

“Sounds like a plan, Stan.” He chuckled, giving her one last hug as she kissed his cheek, and hastily made his way to the elevators. 

Stiles shifted his weight, still humming under his breath, as he waited for the doors to open. He jumped and let out the manliest squeak ever, when he felt a hand come down on his shoulder. He turned around and glared daggers at the grinning guy beside him, “What the ever living fuck, Isaac!”

“Just showing you how much I missed you.”

“Yeah, well, I certainly didn’t miss the morning heart attacks. Thanks, b-t-w, for almost making me spill coffee all over myself.”

Isaac rolled his eyes, “Whatever,” he shrugged and stepped into the elevator with Stiles, “What are you even doing in today? Didn’t you get the memo, there’s a huge private shoot being done today. Unless you’re a model in the shoot or the photographer, or handpicked by the company to do makeup –no one is supposed to be here.”

Stiles sighed softly, rolling his shoulders, “Lydia’s here, so I have to be here.” Isaac eyed him for a minute and then nodded as he accepted the answer. That wasn’t the complete truth, however. Stiles was there because he was a model in the shoot, a very large shoot for the latest craze of perfume and cologne that apparently paid a large, undisclosed, amount of money to have a two page spread in GQ’s next edition. 

When the elevator dinged, Stiles waved to Isaac and stepped out. He made his way down the hall, passing office after office of editors and writers, all trying to get their pieces prepped and finished. With the due-date closing in, this shoot was the last piece of the sexy puzzle and Stiles felt a little giddy on the inside. He pushed open the door to Lydia Martin’s office and stumbled slightly when he caught sight of the thin line she had her lips pursed in.

“Glad to see you on time, for once.”

“You don’t seem too impressed.”

“Close the door, Stiles,” she waited as he did as he was told and made his way over to one of the big, black, leather chairs in front of her desk, “I don’t know if I want you in this anymore.”

“What?” Stiles shot up, from the laid back and relaxed slouch he had fallen into the chair in, sitting up straight with a frown on his lips, “But I thought we both agreed that this would be an amazing opportunity. Get my name out there.” He waved his hand in an ‘etc, etc,’ motion and Lydia rubbed her temples, 

“I know, I know, and it is-would be but...”

“But?”

She let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in her chair, and pinched the bridge of her nose. She was trying to figure out the best way to tell him the worst news. Like trying to tell a small child Santa Claus didn’t exist, but if you were bad he still wasn’t going to bring you any toys. The longer she took, the more worried Stiles became. Had someone figured it out? Stiles didn’t think anyone had, they’d been ridiculously careful in only telling people that absolutely had to know –and even then the list was only four people long.

Yes Stiles was a model, and no he hadn’t murdered anyone –he was the Sheriff’s son, for crying out loud, there was no way he would be able to get away with something like that, but he wasn’t exactly truthful in his area of employment. Stiles, or well, Savannah when it came down to putting a name on his resume, was a female model. Despite being very male and proud of his gender –there was no crisis of identity to be had, it just happened. It just happened meaning Lydia had called him at two o’clock in the morning, crying tears of anger and frustration that one of her models decided to get in a car accident and wouldn’t be able to make it in the next morning. Lydia, having just started her career as an agent, kept rambling about this being the most important photo-shoot of her newly hatched job and she was going to be damned if a drunk driver was going to take it away from her. She’d asked Stiles if he could come and help her, that she needed him there with her to help her through this –like old times at Stanford, when they would sit in front of the television with pizza and cookie dough and watch Golden Girl’s on Netflix. Being half asleep, and wanting to go back to sleep, Stiles told her he would be there.

Seven o’clock the next morning, found Stiles sitting in Lydia’s, then, tiny office as she paced around and rambled. Pulling shirt after shirt off of the costume rack as she tried to find something for Stiles to wear, when she stopped and looked him up and down, “Take off your shirt.” Stiles sputtered at the command and his face went pink when she started tugging at the hem and pinched his hips, “Oh my god...” she looked up with a sickly sweet smile, and that was it. What started out as helping his best-girl-friend in the tightest pinch of their twenty-four years of life, turned into a life time career with her as his agent. 

It was true that no one else knew, besides the CEO but he didn’t care so long as a contract was signed and business was being brought in. Savannah was a hit. Stiles was like a proud father, when it came to his alter-ego, and Lydia never let him forget that he was actually the strikingly attractive model that appeared on the pages of the magazine. He was naturally lithe with a slim waist and a bit hippy, it was amazing what a good push-up bra and a little bit of makeup could do, topped with a caramel brown wig that bounced along his shoulders in large curls and he made one adorable little lady. Keeping it a secret was easy, everyone thought that Lydia had him doing all of her menial work –since he would go up to her office in the morning and not be seen until the end of the day, but making sure all of the makeup washed off before he left the studio was something that took him a bit time to get used to. Which was how Allison and Scott found out. 

Stiles had left to meet them for lunch, having the time between sessions, and he hadn’t realised that he’d missed the eyeliner completely. Scott hadn’t noticed, not until Allison pointed it out and called Stiles out on it. Stiles had had to call Lydia, and once she arrived they filled the two in. Scott had been hurt that Stiles hadn’t told him in the first place, “We’re best bros for life, dude, you could have told me.” But everything settled pretty quickly. Lydia even took the heat of Scott’s puppy-eyes and told him that she had told Stiles not to tell a soul. Even his dad didn’t know. Hell, the Sheriff still didn’t know what it was Stiles did in New York –besides whine to him about models and their inhumanly perfect bodies.

“-ale.” Lydia’s voice snapped Stiles back to the present and he blinked,

“Uh...what?” He hoped he didn’t sound like he was asking her to repeat herself, but the way his voice shattered and stalled he wasn’t too confident. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice or if she did, she didn’t comment,

“Derek Hale is the model assigned to work with you this afternoon.”

“Derek...Hale.” Stiles blinked, and then blinked again. There was no way –though now the ridiculous amount of money that was being shoved towards this project made sense. Derek Hale didn’t come cheap, nor should he. The man was walking, talking, breathing, living sex appeal. He had a body chipped from marble and a face that made angels weep. Derek ‘designed-after-a-Greek-deity-but-with-a-bigger-penis’ Hale was the kind of guy that you would find centerfold in a Play Girl magazine. No really, he is. Jackson had thought it would have been a hilarious birthday gift, Stiles had opened the gift bag and pulled the magazine out in front of all of his friends and family, not to let it show how embarrassed he was; Stiles had flipped through it quickly before landing on that beautiful body. Derek had been the star of many fantasies of different degrees of erotica ever since. Stiles had made sure to thank Jackson appropriately. 

“Yes, for the last time Stiles, Derek Hale is going to be working with-“ she cut herself off and ran a hand through her hair, 

“Why?” He found himself asking before he could think not to. Lydia shrugged,

“I don’t know why, seeing as he’d already turned them down twice before.”

“Well, we’re not dropping out,”

“Stiles-“

“No, Lyds, we don’t quit. Maybe...maybe if we’d found out two weeks ago that I’d have to sit through hours of torture being so close to Derek, I’d consider throwing in the towel. But the shoot is in an hour, all my shit is already here, there is no way we’re going to find someone to take my place and not offend the company and Derek. Not only that but it would ruin your pristine reputation.”

Lydia sighed and offered him a tired smile, which he returned with a grin of his own, “Alright, let’s get you dolled up and ready to go.”

Slipping into Savannah was like sliding into a well worn pair of jeans, faded and comfortable to the point that it was hard taking them off at night. Stiles closed his eyes as Lydia worked her makeup magic, using earthy tones to highlight the golden-honey of his eyes and worked in a few shades of blue and green to pop against Derek’s. Getting into the outfit was a little trickier than normal. The skirt was a lot shorter than what he was used to, “It barely covers my ass, Lydia!” and he had to tuck himself extra carefully to make sure that his obviously-not-a-vagina bulge didn’t show through the thin layers of panties and skirt. Stiles was even more diligent to make sure that he would in no way risk an erection popping out in the middle of the shoot. Just thinking about Derek all up and personal, regardless of the reason, made his dick want to stand at half-mast.

“All done,” Lydia smiled as he twirled in the mirror, the curls of the wig flounced around his ears and brushed against the back of his shirt –which was a cream coloured button down, and the more he looked at himself the more he realised that he looked like a Japanese school-girl, “What?” 

Stiles shook his head and grinned at Lydia, “Nothing, well, nothing with this except...I feel like I’m about to star in a Live Drama. Ah, Derek-senpai, please notice me today!” He threw his arms up and twirled again. Lydia laughed and rolled her eyes,

“You are a horrible person.”

“It helps me sleep at night.”

Arms linked the two of them made their way down a floor to the studio where the session was going to take place. The room was full of assistants moving about setting up the scene, which Stiles snorted at because really, a classroom? And Matt, the photographer, was busy growling as he fumbled about trying to get the flash-lamps just right. He was horribly OCD, but his work was perfection so no one bothered him or tried to rush him when it came to set up. 

Stiles walked around the set, smiling at workers who paused to say hello, and propped himself up on one of the desks, “Savannah,” Stiles blinked and turned his head to see Matt looking at him through the lens of his camera, “Don’t move. I’m going to use you to help set up the lighting, okay?”

Stiles chuckled softly, “I guess it’s alright, I mean I am pretty comfortable right now.” Months of practice had resulted in Stiles being able to manipulate his voice. It helped that it was naturally soft and not-as-deep as he would have liked it to have dropped, but it still wasn’t something that he could do for very long and was always worried that his voice would crack and give him away. Today was not that day, however, and Matt just nodded at him as the photographer went back to snapping directions at panic-y assistants.  
After twenty minutes of fiddling, and getting Stiles to stand in different parts of the set, Matt nodded his head and looked up with his creepy I’m-not-a-stalker-I’m-a-photographer smile that made Stiles fidget on the desk he was leaning up against, “We got it. Thanks chick.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to throw back the witty retorts both he and his Fem-Self were famous for, when the doors to the studio opened and his words died on his tongue. Derek Hale in the living walked through the double doors like he owned the earth he walked on and looked amazing while doing it. He was dressed in dark acid-washed jeans and a white dress shirt that had the top three buttons undone, sunglasses pushed to the top of his head, and his constant four-day-stubble was ever present. Stiles thanked all the higher powers that ever existed that he was already leaning against a solid, unmovable, surface –because he was pretty sure he would have fallen otherwise. 

Derek felt like someone was undressing him with their eyes and scanned the room. Frowning slightly when he couldn’t find the culprit, until his gaze landed on the girl on set, Savannah, his mind supplied, as he smiled at her and chuckled slightly when she stumbled in place. God she was adorable. Derek’s sister, Laura, had been trying to get the two of them to work together ever since she found out about her brother’s crush on the female model and Derek had been trying to avoid it with just as much passion. Dating models didn’t work. Sleeping with models worked even less. Derek had found both those things out when he tried to date his ex, Kate Argent. The two of them had met on a photo-shoot for Nike, the on-set chemistry had been so powerful that Derek had asked her if she wanted to have dinner with him –for a job well done of course. She had said yes, because really who was going to say no to a date with Derek Hale? Who was going to say no to dating Derek Hale long enough to fuck him, more than once? Kate hadn’t. She hadn’t even been decent in bed, just laid there and made him do all the work before faking her orgasm and rolled over to fake sleeping. They broke up after a handful of months, Derek having caught on to the fact that she was sleeping with her agent. Models. Some days Derek wonders why he is still one of them, why he doesn’t use the degree he has, but then Laura reminds him that no one is looking to hire someone with their Masters in Philosophy –unless he wanted to go back to school, as a teacher. And no. No Derek definitely does not want to do that.

The first time Derek had seen Savannah she had been modeling bras and underwear in one of Laura’s magazines. His sister had left it on the coffee table and he had reached down to pick it up so he could put it away, when he caught sight of the pearly white smile and honey-gold eyes and, fuck, those dimples. He’s not sure how Laura found out, though she probably caught him at one point or another, but ever since then pictures of the young model where being left all around their condo. When he brought it up to her, Laura had just shrugged and told him she didn’t know what he was talking about. Derek wouldn’t tell her, but he was glad that she did it. It made it easier for him to follow the girl’s career, watch as it took off from magazines to her first billboard ad –which had her modeling glasses and if Derek hadn’t already been gone on her before, he certainly was then. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat snapped him out of his daze and he blinked, catching the shy smile on Savannah’s face as Matt frowned at both of them,   
“If you two are done with the staring contest, I’d like to get started.”

Stiles shifted his weight as he watched Matt manoeuvre Derek into starting position, if anyone asked he certainly was not watching Derek’s ass the entire time. Nope, not him, never. Matt had Derek leaning against the front of one of the desks, arms crossed over his chest, and looking off to the side out the fake window. Satisfied with how Derek looked, Matt told him not to move and walked over to Stiles. Matt hummed and looked around the rest of the makeshift classroom before nodding and pointed to the desk next to the one Derek was leaning on, “Sit there, in the seat, legs crossed at the ankles underneath your chair,” Stiles sat like directed and Matt rubbed his chin, “Elbows on the desk, hands clasped, and head resting against your hands while looking in the opposite direction as Derek.” Stiles moved how he could. Matt huffed in annoyance and shifted Stiles’ head around until it was exactly where and how he wanted it. With a nod, Matt walked back to his camera and took a couple shots from different angles.

It wasn’t so bad, working with Derek, except it almost felt like Matt knew something was floating in the air between the two models with the way he was keeping them apart while pressing them together. So far he’d had both models separated, heated glances in some frames but they were never touching. Stiles was sure he would be able to make it through the next two hours, until Matt reviewed his notes and crossed something out before pointing at Stiles,

“Savannah, up on the desk,” Stiles blinked slowly but hopped up and perched on the desk, swinging his feet back and forth as he waited while Matt contemplated. That nod, sealed his fate, “Alright. Derek, stand between her legs with both hands on her hips. Savannah, lean back with one hand behind you on the desk and the other on Derek’s right shoulder.”

Stiles, like the good model he was, braced his hand and gripping the edge of the desk as he leaned back and spread his legs slightly. Derek stepped between them with a pinched look on his face that reminded Stiles of someone watching their dog get run over, twice. He wasn’t going to complain, however, Derek’s apparent annoyance at their pose made it easier for Stiles to quell the heat that he could feel pooling between his legs. Now was not the time to test the restraints that he had placed to keep his dick in line, but just in case Stiles started thinking of dead puppies and headless chickens. A little backup never hurt anyone.

In the background he could hear the snap of the camera’s shutter and the faint tick and hum of the lights flashing and recharging, but he couldn’t see anything beside the colour of Derek’s eyes. Stiles was too busy trying to decode them, they looked emerald but with flecks of brown and blue and gray, not that it mattered. The point was Derek had beautiful eyes, and the man’s hands were hot where his fingers brushed against the skin that poked through where Stiles’ shirt had rode slightly when he had hopped up on the desk. He faintly heard Matt say something and then he felt Derek’s hands slid down his legs to rest on his knee. Stiles’ brain clicked in to gear as he realised where this was going and raised his legs to settle just above Derek’s ass. 

Oh dear loving fucking mother humping screaming crying fucking fuck- Stiles tried his best to suppress a shiver, but the new pose had them so close that Stiles could feel Derek’s breath on his cheek. All he had to do was lift his head up just a fraction of an inch and those magnificent looking lips would be on his. Derek’s hand slid up his leg, resting just below the hem of the skirt, and Stiles’ skin felt like it was on fire. _Dead puppies, dead puppies, my Dad and Scott’s Mom macking on the couch, Coach naked_ , Stiles was racking his brain trying to stop the inevitable but it so wasn’t working. He could feel the holds snapping, and ouch those really hurt, and he could feel his penis slowly pushing its way forward. It wouldn’t be so bad. Stiles looked down, he could see a sizable gap between him and Derek, it wouldn’t be as traumatizing as it could be and he’d probably be able to will it away before anyone noticed –it wouldn’t be the first time he was hard on set. Just the first time he was wearing clothing that made it near impossible to hide in. He was having a good day, an awesome day, he’d totally be able to make it out of this alive.

Hardly.

“Derek, move closer.” Fuck Matt. Fuck him up the ass with a cactus and no lube. Fuck him sideways with that cactus and then shove it down his throat and fuck his face, if anything that would at least wipe that smug ass smirk he’s always sporting off his face for a while as he limped everywhere and ate through a straw. Derek, the ass, moved closer like the good and professional model he was. Stiles’ breath caught as they pressed together, and that’s when he heard it. Derek’s startled, shocked, barely audible if it wasn’t for the fact that his mouth was right next to Stiles’ ear, noise of,

“Is that a-“

Stiles nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment, and winced. His breath caught as Derek tried to back up, and hell no. He was not going to let everyone know his secret. Stiles tightened his legs around Derek’s waist and looked up at him pleadingly, willing him to just get him out of there and not say a word. 

Derek seemed to understand, or he might have just caught the concerned look Lydia was sending them over the back of Matt’s shoulder. The look that clearly read if Derek revealed Savannah as a man there were going to be dire consequences in which Derek’s body would not be found –at least not whole. A sigh, an exasperated and pained sigh, brushed against Stiles’ ear as Derek stood up but kept his hands in place, “Matt,”

“Yeah?”

“Can we take five, Savannah’s not feeling well.”

Matt raised an eyebrow, “She was fine three seconds ago.”

Stiles let out a pained groan and pressed his forehead into Derek’s chest, “Cramps.” 

The look on Matt’s face was well worth it, Stiles almost felt bad that it was a total lie, “Oh-uh of course, yeah sure. Everyone, take a half hour for lunch.”

Stiles slumped forward completely, letting out a surprised yelp when Derek lifted him up off of the desk and –god this was so embarrassing, “Someone shoot me...” he whined as he wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck. 

“We’ll go to my office it’s up a floor up and private.” Lydia, bless her soul, lead Derek out of the studio. Derek, the champ, just followed her in silence as Stiles’ erection pressed a hard line between the two of them.

Stepping into Lydia’s office, Derek didn’t put Stiles down until the door was shut and the blinds were closed. Stiles slumped into one of the chairs and pulled his knees to his chest, 

“I can’t believe you, Stiles. You had one job, one job. We’re not backing out, we can do this. Isn’t that what you said to me this morning?” Lydia huffed, annoyed at Stiles’ perfectly normal bodily functions of a sexually repressed young male adult, 

“That was before Matt made him,” he waved in Derek’s general direction, “climb all over me! I can only handle so much sex appeal in my personal space before it starts to affect me. Naked Finstock and sacrificial puppies can only do so much before their powers of wilting become useless.”

Lydia’s eye rolls are things of legend, she clucks her tongue and pierces her lips, “You’re done.” She raises a hand to cut off Stiles’ rant, “For today, you’re done for today. Get cleaned up, I’ll tell Matt that the cramps are so bad that you’re going home to curl up with a hot-water-bottle and The Notebook, and then we’re going to meet Allison and Scott for lunch.” She kisses his cheek, ignoring the wrinkled look of utter disgust and pats his head before making her way to the door. Opening it, she paused and turned to look back at Derek giving him a smile, “Thank you, for helping out.” And then she was gone, heels clacking down the hall until the door slid closed behind her.

Stiles ran a hand through his hair, pulling the wig off as he went and tossed it on the desk, “So much for today being awesome...” he huffed. His erection had subsided enough that he could stand up and walk normally, and he had forgotten that Derek was even there until he heard him clear his throat,

“So you’re...”

“A guy,” He emphasised his point by pulling the shirt and bra off, revealing his completely flat and male chest, “Sorry to disappoint.” 

Derek frowned, watching as Stiles dressed back in his regular clothes, “You know-“

“Actually, I probably don’t...though there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you all day.”

“What’s that?”

Stiles turned to face Derek, jeans hanging open on his hips, as he played with the hem of the t-shirt he had yet to put on, “Why did you accept the job, after refusing it twice?”

It was Derek’s turn to blush, and god if that didn’t make him look adorable, as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I...the first two times they came to me about it, they hadn’t found a female model yet. I-“

“You took it...because I-because Savannah took it?”

“Yes, and no,” Derek sighed, because yes the main reason was because the person he thought was a very attractive young woman had taken the role, “I waited mainly because I wanted to make sure my ex didn’t get the job.” And knowing Kate, she would have jumped all over it just to spite him.

Stiles nodded slowly, “Oh, well that’s cool.”

“I wanted to meet you, too, you know.”

“Well that makes two of us. Though I am glad you found out I was a guy before you tried to sleep with me, that could have ended badly.”

“As long as it ended in mutual orgasms, I don’t think it would have ended so badly.”

“Wh-what!?” He sputtered and squeaked, fumbling the shirt as he pulled it on. Derek laughed, going over to help pull the fabric down over Stiles’ head, “You-you’re serious? But you said-“

“Just because this ex happens to be a girl, doesn’t mean-“

“But you’re attracted to Savannah. I’m not her. I’m Stiles. I’m a man, with a penis and no boobs. I hate modeling and only got into it as a freak accident starting out as a favor to Lydia like a thousand years ago. I stay up late watching old reruns of shows best forgotten and B-Horror movies are the best thing in the world. I drool in my sleep, I fart in public, and-“ Warm lips pressed against his, hot hands wrapped around his back and pulled him closer. Stiles let out the manliest squeak he had ever produced, and brought his hands up to grab at the front of Derek’s shirt. A tongue poked gently at his mouth and Stiles’ brain had the audacity to wonder if it was his own, before everything registered and he opened up and let Derek dive in, “And I talk too much...” Stiles breathed against their mouths when they broke apart. Derek chuckled,

“I believe that.” He picked up the makeup remover and a cotton ball out of the bag on Lydia’s desk and got to work washing off Stiles’ make up, “But you also have incredibly smooth skin, breath taking eyes, an adorable smile –and I’m pretty sure I would be okay with watching The Wolfman again.”

“You’re gonna hate me, once you get to know me.”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

Stiles grinned and pulled him in for another kiss.

**FOUR MONTHS LATER**

Stiles came to a dead stop in the middle of the sidewalk, pulling at Derek’s hand and eventually letting go as the other man walked a few more steps before realising that Stiles wasn’t moving. Derek turned around and raised both eyebrows at Stiles in a silent _Are you coming, or what?_ Stiles shook his head,

“I’m going murder Matt in his sleep.” He huffed, and pointed at the large billboard that was advertising the fragrance that the two of them had modeled for four months ago. Derek turned his head and laughed, earning a punch in the shoulder from the younger man,

“At least no one can see it.”

“But I know it’s there. You know it’s there. Lydia knows-oh my god, I bet that witch had something to do with that photo being picked.”

Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles’ shoulders and pulled him close, before he started walking again, “So, every time we see it we’ll laugh. Besides, it’s a hot picture.” He kissed the side of Stiles’ head with a smile,

“I...I suppose.” He deflated as he leaned into Derek, catching the picture in the corner of his eye. He was surprised no one could see the boner he had popped during the shoot, since Derek’s hand had been rather high up his leg, pushing the skirt he'd been wearing along with it. But oh well, it was going to be their dirty little secret.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah. So. This fic was inspired by [this video](http://dangerousminds.net/comments/youre_a_wild_girl_taiwanese_push-up_bra_ad_will_have_you_do_a_double_take) and a need to make something cute and light hearted after Monday's episode.
> 
> No regrets.


End file.
